


Burnt to Ashes

by C0M1C4L



Category: Witch's Heart (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-04 04:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14585223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C0M1C4L/pseuds/C0M1C4L
Summary: “Hmmm.” Lime goes deep into thought. Sure, there are so few people, but that’s not to say each of them hasn’t surprised them more times than once. There are five people, but infinite possibilities. Which one will be the most amusing? “I bet all in on Ashe walking straight into his own demise.” They give her devilish smirks in return.The new rules are simple: whoever’s prediction closest to the actual scenario wins and all sabotage, within reason, is fair game.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know Ashe’s story about the portrait was fake and just a setup but I was fooled and thought that something bad would happen to him like- nvm that’d be spoilers. Anyway, I made a what-if scenario of what I thought would happen and it turned into this convoluted mess. Enjoy!

Lime counts her meager amount of chips on the table, three blues, two reds, and a white to Zizel and Charlotte’s toppling towers of chips. This is what she gets for betting on Sirius a fourth time. She doesn’t even like Sirius anymore (if what she’s felt before could even be counted as a liking), it’s just another odd and unusual way of making herself suffer.

 

She sneaks a glance at Charlotte across the table.

 

No, she’s nowhere near suffered enough; she has yet to know the elusive pain of love and loss. If the chips she has are any indication, she knows the opposite of loss: not having anything to lose in the first place.

 

In a fit of frustration, she stacks her chips into a tower and knocks them over.

 

Zizel lowers her tea cup and looks at her oddly. “Are you quite alright?”

 

“Nya… the bets are getting too boring! I wannya bet on something more unpredictable than just who kills Claire.”

 

“I agree.” Charlotte readjusts Rabi under her arm. “There’s not much to this game besides picking a culprit and sticking to him.”

 

“That’s because there’s so few people to choose from in the mansion,” Zizel answers. She sighs, “I don’t have any ideas.”

 

“Hmmm.” Lime goes deep into thought. Sure, there are so few people, but that’s not to say each of them hasn’t surprised them more times than once. There are five people, but infinite possibilities. Which one will be the most amusing? “I bet all in on Ashe walking straight into his own demise.” They give her devilish smirks in return.

 

The new rules are simple: whoever’s prediction closest to the actual scenario wins and all sabotage, within reason, is fair game.

 

Lime sizes up her competition. Charlotte has interacted with humans before, as had Zizel. The hater is good at long term scheming, but seems hesitant at times to go through with them. The purebred would have had a disadvantage this round due to the contract, but when Claire is asleep Zizel is free to roam as she pleases. But Lime herself, though she’s the youngest, is also the most experienced saboteur. In her opinion, she’s the best at it. She’s so good, in fact, she's confident she’ll annihilate her competition this round. She has to be creative, however, because now that they’re all playing the same game, she can’t reuse her old tricks. Perhaps she can make up some new ones through observation. “I better get started. It’d be embarrassing to bring up a new game then lose it the first round!”

 

Zizel giggles, “Have fun.”

 

As they say, the best way to a man’s heart is through the stomach. In a flash, she arrives at the mansion’s kitchen to find Ashe cracking eggs over a hot pan. The thought crosses her mind to make him stick his hand straight into the fire, but she disregards it. Placing her eyes back on Ashe, he moves swiftly, hopping from one pan to another unafraid of the sizzling grease. He enjoys cooking, right? Then why is his face so… cold? Blank? He didn’t even see the contract yet, it’s still in her possession, so this anguish must be the pain he’s carried with him to the cursed mansion.

 

In a glimmer of light her fellow hater appears. “You didn’t think I would sit around while you did as you pleased, did you?”

 

“Of course nyat! You predicted Sirius would die after Ashe, didn’t you? So, what are you gonnya do?”

 

“Hm, like I’d share that so easily.” Charlotte lets a smirk adorn her face then drops it as she turns to the human. As she takes her time observing Ashe, Lime investigates Charlotte. Her neutral expression saddens ever so slightly, and Lime takes note. “The way he cooks so energetically, it reminds me of…” She catches Lime’s stare. “Nevermind.”

 

“Hey, is he... afflicted by love like you? And Noel?”

 

The side eye she gets could have been a nasty one, but her neutral expression reclaims its place. “...Yes, I suppose so.”

 

As they were talking, the three others have arrived for breakfast. Ashe dumps the omelettes onto plates as fast as he can and carries them to the table. He slaps his big dumb happy smile back on his face and greets, “Sorry for the wait! I didn’t expect you all to be here so early.” He sets the plates down in front of each occupied chair. When he reaches Claire, he comments, “Oh, Miss Claire, you look awful! Did you get any proper rest at all?”

 

Sirius scoffs, “How rude of you, Ashe. Don’t you have any consideration for others’ feelings at all?”

 

The happy mask falls from Ashe’s face for a split second, then returns as he repents, “Oh, I’m sorry Miss Claire! I was just concerned for your health.” A glance at Sirius’s face makes him continue, “Though I suppose I still shouldn’t have pointed out your appearance.”

 

Claire laughs awkwardly at the situation she indirectly caused, “It’s fine, I didn’t exactly tidy up this morning,” then seemingly drifts away from the conversation. From the humans’ perspectives, it looks as though Claire is staring straight past Ashe to the wall in a daze. To the demons, including Zizel, who finally decided to pop in, she’s searching for a supposed purpose for their presence. Lime smiles.

 

“Miss Claire?”

 

She snaps out of her stupor. “Yes, Ashe?”

 

“Perhaps after breakfast, you should go back to bed? I can bring you tea and cookies later.”

 

She visibly lights up at the mention of sweets. “You would do that for me? Thanks!”

 

“No problem at all, Miss Claire!” As if his smile never left, he cheerfully sits down and eats his meal with the rest of them.

 

“Zizel, why are those two here?”

 

“To have fun, I suppose. If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” She teleports to the corner where Charlotte and Lime have camped out, far enough away for Claire to be unable to hear them if they kept their voices low. “Don’t tell me you two have plans already?”

 

“No, not me at least. Lime?”

 

“I plan on going big! That’s for sure.”

 

“I can imagine, but,” Zizel expresses genuine concern, “Will you really be able to handle it?”

 

“...Handle it?”

 

“Charlotte and I have been paying enough attention to this mansion to know you’ve been using up a lot of your magic. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ran out by the end of this round.”

 

Lime frowns. So, she can’t go her usual route, something she already affirmed earlier, but is now limiting her options even more. She supposes she should take a page from Zizel’s book and simply be patient, more analytical. As she ponders, the other two continue their conversation.

 

“Hmmm, you seem to be at a disadvantage, Zizel, are you sure you don’t want me to post updates for you?”

 

“That’s quite alright. I’m confident my prediction will come true. I wouldn’t have bet so much otherwise.” She turns around to observe Wilardo and Ashe seated side by side. “Wilardo has just as much drive for the witch’s heart as Ashe, so I’m certain with nothing stopping the two, they will fight, and Wilardo will kill him.”

 

At the mention of a fight, Lime returns to the conversation. “I don’t understand, what would stop them from tearing each other’s guts out?”

 

“Perhaps if… Oh you minx. Charlotte, perhaps I would like those updates after all.”

 

“It would be my pleasure, Lady Zizel.”

 

Satisfied, the purebred blinks back to Claire’s side in time for her to finish her breakfast. She deflects a question from her and the two leave. Charlotte vanishes soon after.

 

Being the lone demon again, Lime returns to her people watching. As Ashe takes their plates, Wilardo heads straight out while Sirius takes a moment to ensure Ashe doesn’t drop the precariously stacked plates before leaving as well. Naturally, given such an opportunity, Lime knocks the plates over.

 

The surprise he exhibits is no less than amusing, having tried to catch at least one plate before stumbling back to avoid the shards flying in all directions. He looks to the door worried the noise  could have attracted Sirius. He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “Sirius is not going to let me get away with this one. Although...” He looks around suspiciously with the attentiveness of an owl on the hunt, or is it the fearful look of prey? His gaze cuts so deep Lime nearly fears he could see her. Does he suspect supernatural activity just from that? She can’t help but chuckle at his paranoia.

 

She sticks with him the entire day, watching as he forces his way into Noel’s room, finds the secret room, and formulate his sick, twisted plan with dark determination rivaling that of a hater. Most amusing was his delivery of the tea and cookies he promised to his future victim, an ironic display bound to despair. Later into the day however became less interesting. He strayed away from his preparations in favor of calming himself down, or was it hyping himself up, for the murder by wandering the house. Lime pouts. He should be jumping in glee right now, shouldn’t he? He has love to fight for, doesn’t he? He’ll go through with it, won’t he? He must… He won’t. It’s at one very impulsive moment when she makes a promise to him, and seals her bet.

\---

At an earlier point of his time here, Ashe was surprised to see that the portrayal of the wicked witch Dorothy exuded a sort of grandmotherly benevolence. He wondered if the claims of her having had children were true, and if they had picked up her practices. Now he knows better, better than any other researcher.

 

He places his hand on the painting to help him determine its age. The Dorothy portrayed seems to be in her mid thirties, possibly already mother by that time, and the craquelure on the paint is starting to become visible. He pulls his hand away and his breath hitches. A tiny scratch now adorns the portrait. A hangnail on his thumb confirms that yes, he did indeed scratch it.

 

It wouldn’t be a big deal, shouldn’t be, because it’s so small and just a painting, but the _air_ , it’s gotten ever so slightly heavier. Years of reading about the most vile curses ever experienced catches up to him and wrings his heart like a snake. It takes all he has not to jump out of his skin when _something_ whispers in his ear, _“I’ll come meet you tonight.”_

 

At a very brisk pace he makes his way up the stairs to the kitchen and grabs as many bottles of Luvan wine as possible. The encounter with

 

Ashe had every intent of spending his night drinking so much he forgets all morals, so it came as a surprise to see Noel follow him into his room to, of all things, console him. He supposes it’d be worse and frankly unnatural if anyone else, especially _Sirius_ , came to him at this time.

 

That is hardly any consolation.

 

Their time together isn’t as awkward as Ashe feared. The wine helped, but he suspects it’s just Noel’s presence, his kind aura that lets his company feel relaxed around him. He wonders if that kindness would warp to grizzly rage if he found out what Ashe was planning, but he has no intention finding out.

 

Heavens, he’s terrified. What other consequences could rear their ugly heads?

 

Apparently, he hadn’t been hiding his anxieties well enough because Noel asks, “Did something happen earlier?”

 

Ashe could say a whole bunch, but he settles with, “I may have been cursed by the Witch Dorothy.” If not for earlier events, this would have simply been his cover up story, but now it’s the truth of his genuine fear. According to himself, that is a very reasonable worry to have. He’s literally planning to kill he witch’s granddaughter and take what is essentially their family treasure, all right in her own mansion. The rest of his words are riddled with hiccups. “I had touched a portrait of the Witch Dorothy and accidently scratched it. After I heard a voice say, ‘I’ll come meet you tonight’... I may have made a fatal mistake…” Noel remains silent, and that just lets Ashe dwell on his ugly thoughts more. He’s killed before, no question, and each time justified their deaths as for a greater good, but as much as he wants to deny it, he’s just selfish. His mistake is not one, but many. The thing he fears more than anything, however, is regretting them, even after the tearful reunion he will have with his family. A sob forces its way out as a painful hiccup, and that finally stirs the other into talking.

 

“Ashe, it’s okay,” he says, “I don’t think anything that bad will happen.” How can he be so sure of that? Even if he really was, Ashe isn’t keen on trusting the man who quite literally disappears all day (ignoring the fact that Ashe himself is a huge hypocrite).

 

“Y-yes, that’s right! I have plenty of protective charms, one of the is bound to work,” (against you if need be).

 

With his ever so benevolent smile Noel reassures him again, “Yes, I’m sure they will,” but right after something akin to concern flashes across his face.

 

“I-I’ve just never really…” It’s time for Noel to leave, before he spills the dirty contents of his heart. He laughs, “Felt this tired in my life. I think I’ll go to bed now. It was a lot of fun having drinking with you!”

 

“Alright. Rest easy, Ashe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Thank you, Noel. Farewell!” The second the door closes, Ashe falls to his back, then rises back up like a zombie. It’s time.

 

The demon smiles.

 

_It’s time._


	2. Contract

Weighed down by his sins Ashe drags his feet to the door, his movements sluggish and clumsy due to the alcohol. A stumble forces him to catch himself on the door knob, but the steel’s excruciating heat makes him cry out in pain and cradle the burnt hand to his chest as he falls to his knees. An orange glow accompanied by the rising heat overtakes his vision as he scrambles to his feet. He turns to the origin and faces hellfire, and in the middle of it, the devil herself. The embers illuminate her sadistic smile, her fangs shining the most brilliantly out of everything. The smile looks far too gleeful, and the stress between her brows is far too evident. As her eyes pierce his very core and ash fills his lungs, he only just manages to choke out, “Wh-what… what are you!? Are you the witch Dorothy?” The monster, for he still knows not who or what she is, takes a step towards him.

His fear skyrockets. He grabs for his knives deep within his sleeves with his non-injured hand and throws. They slice through the air, slice through the fire, slice into her, then stop. The monster’s smile remains as the knives, stuck in her body, spill her blood onto the floor, more red upon the scene to emphasize the danger he is in. She continues forward, the blazing inferno following. The heat becomes so unbearable, he collapses. He can feel her coming closer, and just when the flames lick at his clothes, it stops.

That’s not to say Ashe is anywhere near ready to rise from his fetal position. He continues to lay there, shuddering at every sound the demoness makes.

“Hmm, I can’t have hurt you that bad.” The demoness pokes and prods at the human, giggling at each flinch. All too cheerfully, she urges, “Come ooon, get up! I want to talk to you!”

In utter bafflement he finally allows himself to raise his head and gaze upon the monstrosity. She… without the embers alighting her in a sinister glow, she looks normal. Too normal. “What-” a cough tears through his throat to expel the remaining soot, then turns into a full blown fit, each cough more painful than the last.

“Oh no, don’t die on me, please! I don’t want Lady Rouge to punish me!” He hears the clatter of metal hitting the floor along with the drip drip of viscous liquid.

He doesn’t know what’s giving him the strength to do it, perhaps curiosity, or pure instinct, but Ashe slowly rises. He eventually gets to his full height and finds he has to look down to talk to her. Her arm clutches her wounds and the knives lie harmlessly on the floor. Regardless, his heart jackrabbits out of control like the prey he is, ready to bolt at any sign of danger. “What do you want?”

“Oh, good, you’re up!” All traces of a vicious predator disperse as she speaks, a bubbly gesture accompanying each word despite the blood dripping from her stomach. “Huh? You look so scared, what’s the matter nyah? I told you I’d be meeting you tonight.”

Surely she must be joking? No being, human or not, could face such a display with bravery. If she saw a reflection of herself while the fire clawed at everything around her as she bared her impossibly sharp fangs, she’d never look in the mirror again. “I… suppose that is true.” Now that the air is clear again, he takes the chance to control his breathing. He puts to use all of the tricks he’s learned and puts them to the test against the inhuman being. With nerve he doesn’t have he asks, “May I ask for your name? And an explanation of who you are, if you please.”

“How rude to ask my name before introducing yourself? Although I guess it’s fine, because I already know who you are, Mr. Ashe Bradley!” Ashe hides the shiver sliding down his spine as best he can. “I am Lime, but you may call me Lady Lime. I’m a demon, nyah!”

“So you are.” He pushes his fear down his throat. “Miss, I mean, Lady Lime it is then, um, how do you know my name?”

“I’ve been watching you of course! You humans sure can be entertaining!”

“So you know-?!”

“About the witch’s heart? Of course I do! And I know just how much you want it.” The malice returns with those magic words. What do demons do to humans like him? Drag him to the depths of hell to mock him for his childish dream? Because it looks like she’s ready to do just that then and there.

“Yes, and so what of it? Does it not benefit your kind for a human to wish upon it?”

The malice disappears again, and he wonders how he can ever hope to keep up with her. “Of course it does! We high level demons eat contracts up! We lo~ve to make them!”

“Then you won’t mind if I take it?”

She responds bluntly, “I’m not going to stop you.”

He has the suspicious that that is not the case. “Then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way. You understand I only have so much time.” The story he told Noel, (the one he is experiencing right now), he thinks bitterly), was not just to serve as an outlet for his worries, but to trick him into readily accepting him as an innocent victim of a witch’s massacre. He can’t wait for tomorrow and have his alibi slip through the cracks. He again reaches for the doorknob (with his non-injured hand) only to snatch it away in pain.

The flame disperses from her outstretched hand. “I can’t let you leave yet. I came to talk to you for a reason, after all.”

In spite of himself, Ashe snaps back, “And what is it? Is it so important it can’t wait?”

“Boy, you're impatient. I guess that’s fine, since I’m pretty short on time as well. Listen closely.” Completely serious, with no cutesy speech quirk nor predatory displays, she freezes Ashe in place with just a few words. “I am offering you the chance to form a demonic pact.” Try as he might, the human can find no signs of deceit from the demon.

Her cutesy act bubbles back to the surface. “Wouldn't that be great~? All you gotta do is trade your heart and your wildest dreams can come true!”

Why would she offer such a thing? She must know what he was planning, so why is she giving him another option? He’d be lying if he said the offer wasn’t enticing. To be completely honest, he’d much rather simply trade something he already owns than steal the life of another once more. Is this, perhaps, his way out? No, he can’t fall into the demon’s trap; there is always a catch. “I cannot. I have no land to trade, and considering my situation, I could never provide it.” Now that he thinks about it, could she be the reason they're trapped here? He especially cant listen to her if that's the case

“That's no big deal, you can just give it to me later.”

Not falling for it a bit, he interrogates, “And if I don't?”

“I guess I’ll have to drag you down to hell?” Of course. How could he ever expect differently from a demon?

“I won't do it. I desire to actually see my family and live like it was before. Trading my heart, and therefore life, will not achieve that.” It doesn’t matter if Claire dies in his place because she has no family it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine just don’t fall for it for the love of all please don’t fall for it!

“Are you sure?”

Yes, yes, YES just GO already. “I’m sure,”

A growl emerges from her like an unseen bear in a dark a cave. She looks at him with dissatisfaction as if he’d wronged her somehow, which he very well might have. “You don’t have to trade your heart.” When she knows she has his attention, she lightens up. “Sure, the heart is the most powerful, but that’s only by itself. You can match that kind of power with quantity. Trade your eyes, your tongue, a kidney, a few fingers, and then you could possibly exceed the power of the witch’s heart. Nyah~ doesn’t that sound exciting?”

No, this couldn’t possibly be the the answer he’s been looking for. Yet, it’s being presented to him like a birthday gift wrapped up with a pretty bow just for his taking, and who is he to refuse a demon? He’s never heard of such an option from the countless books he’s read, but surely no researcher has gotten as close as him to the real thing. Demons don’t lie, so should he take that chance?

“You know, if I were you, I’d choose the easier way.”

The… easier way? That’s right, the difficult way leads to bloodshed, the very knot in his throat he had to wash down with alcohol. “Lady Lime,” with newfound hope he announces, “I demand to form a demonic pact!”

Lime can’t believe how easy it was get him to agree. She shouldn't have been surprised, the previous loops have proven ashe to be tenacious driven. It would have been nice to see if he would really go through with it, but there will surely be plenty of other loops if she has anything to say about it.

Ashe hands the parchment to her after signing his name. Reading the contract again, she can’t help but laugh. Nothing is in the human’s favor at all. She signs with glee.

The following document is a demonic pact between Ashe Bradley and Lady Lime and goes as follows:

The human party, in exchange for a wish, will trade their right eye, left kidney, right arm, both legs, tongue, and a lock of their hair, in addition to one acre of land to be acquired by the demonic party at any time before the human’s death, regardless if a wish was made. If these conditions are not met, the human party will be dragged to hell.

Ashe Bradley

Lime

“Nyahaha! Now, as your pact demon, I’ll be with you at all times to make sure you make good on your deal, alright?”

“Yes, that is alright,” he lies. He suddenly flinches. His limbs, eyes, mouth, stomach, everything feels as though it’s folding in on itself. Even worse it’s as if acid runs through his veins, alighting every part of his insides with searing pain. For the second time he falls to the floor. “What… what is this?!”

She looks down at his form impassively. “Oh, that must be the gems forming. You’ll get used to it I guess. You know, I haven’t thought about what would happen if a human traded more than one body part. This is a first!”

His face seeps with utter betrayal. “Y-you dastardly...” The agony lulls him to unconsciousness.

Lime takes a moment to feel the magic emanating from the human. The gems feed on his blood like a parasite and grows with each pump, preparing for the day it will emerge and be devoured for the benefit of the demon. It’s a shame for Ashe that the very magic he is giving life to will never repay the favor.

Seeing no further reason to remain until he awakes, Lime takes the contract and spirits away to hell.


	3. Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Shorter chapters from now on, even though I love updatig in big chunks.

“----she? Ashe? Are you up?”

The thumping and rattling of the door resulting from Claire’s brutish strength and equally mighty concern arouses Ashe to consciousness. With aching muscles he pushes himself up and calls out, “I’m awake, Miss Claire! A bit sluggish this morning, is all.”

A mumble from the other side leads him to think that perhaps actually showing himself to her will make his lie more convincing. He drags himself to the door, glad that he at least passed out fully dressed. He stops just before he turns the knob upon realizing something. Looking back at his impeccably clean and tidy room fills him with dread. Where is the evidence? The scorch marks? The ash? Was yesterday all a drunken hallucination meant to thwart his attempts? Dear god his would-be victim is right outside his door, unaware of her alternate fate.

He shakes his head clear of those thoughts and forces himself to pull open the door to greet Claire and her friend. “I’m ready-?”  
  
Since when was there another person here?

A girl in pink stands casually behind Claire. He nearly comments before realizing that Claire has suspiciously not acknowledged her existence at all. “Um, ready to go, Miss Claire!”

The entire way to the kitchen he has to stare at the entity but at the same pretend it doesn’t exist. It doesn’t take him long to realize that she’s her pact demon. As they take their seats, Ashe wonders where his own demon is.

“Nyaha! Did you miss me!”

Ashe skillfully restrains himself from jumping five feet off his seat. From across the table he thinks he sees the pink demon look their way, but something else must have caught her attention because she seems oddly focused on the wall. He whispers, “Oh my, you’re really here. I was beginning to wonder if what happened last night was a horrible terrible nightmare.”

“Aww, don’t say that. Anyway, you see Pinky by Blue?”

“It’s quite hard not to. I figure she’s Claire’s pact demon?”

“Yup!”

The conversation falls flat by that point, so Ashe eats his breakfast in silence. He ignores the shallow pain in his right shoulder and eats with his left hand. It must be from the odd way he slept. 


End file.
